Deliciously Damaged (Reckless Bastards MC 3)

We all laughed and got back into the hummer. “Where to, Prez?”

“I’m hungry,” I told Stitch. “Stop someplace with big burgers, crispy bacon and milkshakes.”

“You eat like a ten-year-old,” Cross accused.

I smiled at him. “Cross isn’t hungry, Prospect Stitch. Make sure he gets his favorite, the kale and egg salad.”

“Asshole,” he grunted and I only laughed.

Even though the danger had passed, the tension remained. And I fucking hated tension. “Any word from Gunnar?” I asked, changing the subject.

Gunnar was the Reckless Bastards VP and he’d been MIA for months, checking in sporadically only with Cross.

Cross nodded. “He’s just about done settling his mother’s estate, but there’s some other issues that have cropped up. He should be back in another month or so. I hope.”

The stress was probably the reason our Prez was so quiet all the damn time. “Tired of picking up his slack?”

That caught me by surprise. I quickly reassured him, “Fuck no, just curious since you’re the only one he calls.”

“His head is all fucked up, you know that.”

I shook my head. “Our mothers weren’t exactly the same, so

no, I have no fucking clue.”

He leveled me with a look. “Yeah, because little kids who watch their mothers overdose time and time again end up so fucking healthy.”

“Never said I was healthy, but thanks for bringing that up, man.” My life was no fucking secret but bringing it up like that to prove a fucking point, was a low blow. “Stop the truck,” I called out.

“We’re not there yet,” Stitch shot back.

“I said stop the fucking truck!”

The hummer slowed down and I jumped out.

“Catch you around,” I said, slamming the door and walking away. A walk would do me good.

Clear my head, since, according to my own Prez, it was all kinds of fucked up.

***

“Open up, Mandy!”

Even in my drunken haze, I realized I was loud and obnoxious, and banging on her door like I was an invading army. But like I said, I was drunk with a lot of shit on my mind, including the demons Cross kicked up earlier.

“Mandy!”

The sound of several locks disengaging practically vibrated the door and I stepped back just as Mandy’s blonde head appeared between a crack.

“What the hell, Savior?”

She didn’t look happy. Yeah, well neither was I. “We need to talk,” I yelled into the door.

Her lips were moving but I couldn’t hear her words because my gaze was on her swell of cleavage, all creamy and unbound. Tits loose behind the light t-shirt that barely hit mid-thigh.

“It’s one in the morning, what could we possibly have to talk about?”

I could tell she wasn’t happy to see me. “About why I’m such an asshole,” I told her and pushed my way inside. More like stumbling.